The Tournament of Souls
by Ninja Hinder
Summary: We follow Winston Moore as he battles through The Tournament of Souls to the final battle, but everything is not what it seems. Rated T for violence.
1. Introduction

Tournament of Souls.

So here I was. I was at the biggest fighting tournament ever. Last year, this tournament, The Tournament of Souls, have 64 fighters. This year, twice that many! I wondered how I would do. Here in London, England was one fourth of the tournament, a 32 fighter ordeal. In Sparta, in the Ottoman Empire, there was another one of these tournaments. The last two were in Beijing, China, and Tokyo, Japan. Four tournaments means four winners, right? Yes. These four winners would then have a last fight between all of them in a surprise location. All of the journalists in the world covered it, so getting to the semi-finals in this made you a superstar!

I'm Winston Moore. I'm an Englishman. I'm 24 years old. I don't have many advantages, except the first three letters of my name. Get it? It spells 'Win'. Ha. Ho. Hum. In this huge tournament, nobody really dressed right. I had almost no metal at all on my garb, except maybe some part of my leather boots. They were pretty low, going to my ankle. Then I had socks going up to just below my knees with leather strips in them going horizontally then vertically. I cut my breeches that had an abstract pattern on them to just above my knees. Whoops! Turns out that I cut them a bit unevenly. I then had a shirt long sleeved shirt on, tied together with pauldrons. I wasn't sure what these shoulder pads were made of, but it wasn't any metal. I had a cloth bandana keeping my hair that ran to the middle of my neck out of my face. Then, there were my weapons.

I had figured that since everybody was wearing flashy clothes, weapons didn't have to be too sharp. Two months before this event I went down to the market for weaponry. I found a cheap looking little blacksmith's shop and I picked up two of the cheapest shortswords available. These swords had a neat looking, pretty long handle, and out of them rose a rectangular steel blade. It was hardly a blade, since it didn't end in a sharp tip at all. I had the owner of the smithy make them sharper-edged. After that, I was ready to enter the tournament.

I decided to isolate myself from the world like you hear all of those great fighters do. The Tournament of Souls started in two months, so I headed into the wilderness. After a close encounter with a wolf, I found a derelict barn. The red paint was chipping off slightly. I headed inside, and tossed my leather bag that held a week's provisions onto the nearest bale of hay. I looked around. I didn't see why anybody would want to abandon this place. It looked about ten years old with dust all over. It had good stables, and surprisingly all of the hay was fresh. It smelled like dirty horses in here. Looking up at the loft, I decided that it could collapse at any moment, so, grabbing some hay, I made a makeshift bed that wasn't under the loft. Stepping out of the barn, I saw a scarecrow. I would make more of these using the hay to practice moves on.

I was totally set.


	2. The First Round

**Hey guys, every chapter there will be Tira/Zasalamel segments, telling you about the unfolding tournament, following Kilik, and revealing what Zasalamel has to do with The Tournament of Souls.**

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_Meanwhile...._

_Zasalamel looked over at Tira. "Has it started yet, my servant?" Tira nodded. "The tournament has started at all four locations, my master." They were in the audience of the Chinese tournament, where they saw Kilik and Maxi about the brawl to their deaths in the first round. The crowded cheered when Kilik entered the arena. "Are there any big threats, Tira?" Tira gasped when she heard her first name. When she was insane and under Nightmare, he was usually adressed as 'creature' or some other unhealthy name. "Uhm, yes. Kilik, Xianghua, and Maxi are in this Chinese tournament. In the Japanese tournament are Mitsurugi and Taki. We have Sophitia and Cassandra in Sparta, and in London there's Ivy and Raphael. Where's Cervantes?" Zasalamel watched Maxi enter the arena and replied, "He's watching his daughter in London. He wants to kill her, you know." Tira nodded. The gong crashed, and the two warriors clashed in the fight for their life._

_This was shaping up to be a very interesting tournament indeed._

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It was the morning of The Tournament of Souls. I had signed up the day before, and the registration officer laughed at my clothes. Maybe that was a sign. I had a match scheduled for noon, which meant that the whole morning would be booked with earlier matches. The officer told me that there were two deathmatches per day, but forfeits were allowed. I spent the morning in the stands of the large stadium, watching the matches. There was this one lady with white hair. She had a tight, snake-skin sort of outfit that left little to the imagination. In the first round, she dominated her opponent, ending by complaining that her now dead opponent got blood on her suit. Hardcore. Suddenly, the announcer yelled, "Moore versus Wilder!" This was my time. I rushed out of my seat of this makeshift stadium and passed through the gates.

This Wilder chappie looked Scottish. He was fighting in a kilt and an old iron broadsword. The referee, who looked like he had never smiled in five years explained the rules. "Alright, listen up! You try to kill eachother, you can forfeit your match if you value your pathetic life, and when one of you is dead, we advance so somebody else can slaughter you. Got it?!" We both nodded, and I settled into a combat position on this 20' by 20' wooden platform that passed for an arena. A skinny man whacked a stick into a large gong, signaling it was time to fight. I had prepared for this moment for two months. Dozens of scarecrows trembled in fear from me. I readied my weapons as the Scot charged.

I ducked under his horizontal blow and jabbed the shortsword in my right hand into his leg. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground. I backed away some as he swung vainly at me with his broadsword. "I don't wish to kill you, Wilder. Forfeit now." He shook his head. "I promised that I would die trying to win this. Do your worst." Well, now was high time to test a certain move. I flung my left sword at him, it spun around twice and lodged in his neck. The move worked!"A decisive victory!" The announcer yelled as I picked my left sword out of the corpse. Poor man, he didn't see it coming. It truly was a decisive victory. The crowd cheered as the announcer yelled, "In one hour the second round fights will begin! Until then, combatants, you may rest!" I clambered down from the slightly raised platform and headed to the locker room to dress in normal clothes.

My second battle would be at 6:00 PM. That gave me time to eat a big lunch and give it time to settle, and then warm up for the second round. Sixteen competitors remained for now, which meant 64 in the whole tournament, unless of course, two combatants suffered a mortal wound in their match. Then, they would be replaced by a prisoner who deserved to die. Those prisoners never lasted long.

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_What would happen next round? Find out next chapter!_


	3. The Second Round

Round two.

_Zasalamel watched, amazed as Xianghua subdued her female opponent with such ease that it made it look as if she were enjoying herself. "So the rumors are true. She dances when she fights." Tira nodded, "I was surprised how wimpy that Maxi guy was. I thought he'd last longer than thirty seconds against Kilik. I wonder how many threats had been destroyed this way." Zasalamel answered, "If everything goes according to plan, all threats to Soul Edge will be dead. New heroes will rise up." "New, inexperienced heroes." Tira wisely replied as they prepared for Round Two to start._

I was certainly nervous. The combatants in round two fought much more fiercely than the ones in the previous round. Supposedly, round one stood to weed out the lesser individuals. By the time of round three, the fights would be quite entertaining. Sitting on the wooden bench next to the other combatant spectators, I wondered how much ticket sales would be. The person who runs this tournament must be quite rich at the end of it each year. I had just settled down in my seat, a half hour before it was my turn to battle. The announcer took longer to describe the fighters as they came this time arround. Then suddenly he yelled, "VALENTINE VERSUS SOREL!!" The crowd went completely nuts! Apparently this was an anticipated fight. "Please enjoy the fight that both combatants refuse to lose! First, we have Isabella Valentine!" At her name the crowd went even louder. She stepped out of the locker room and gracefully began walking towards the now bloody platform. It was the white haired lady! She was in the same revealing outfit, a scowl marking her face. "Hailing from this very country, Isabella Valentine had lost everything. Now she has nothing to lose! She'll gladly fight her opponents to death! Next up is Raphael Sorel!" The crowd didn't cheer.. at all. Clearly he was the antagonist. "Not much is known about this man, except that his bloodlust exceeds even the most mad! He will certainly be a challenge for the lovely Ms. Valentine!" Raphael walked out of his locker room, rapier in hand.

I noticed one man in the crowd, he looked like a scruff old pirate. He was yelling many obscenities towards Isabella at rooting for Raphael. Interesting. "Both combatants have agreed that there will be no forfeit from this match. One fighter will make their way out of her by their own free will, and the other will be carried out by men dressed in black! Combatants, are you ready?!" The mean old referee said a few brisk things to the brave warriors down their. I wondered why this tournament needed a referee. Except to tell them when to start and when to stop, he didn't have much use. Then, the combatants went to their combat stances. I made a quick check on Raphael, assessing how much of a threat he'd be if I fought him. He was dressed in odd and fancy clothes. He had medium length blonde hair and fought with a rapier. Those weapons could only stab, really. Clearly he was no threat, except in speed. Isabella fought with a neat sword, a bit bigger than mine. Suddenly, she flicked it and wrapped it around he back. Holy! It resembled a whip! Ms. Valentine would certainly be a tough opponent, if I were to face her.

Without warning, the gong sounded and the fight was on! Raph wasted zero time as he made a quick lunge. Isabella expected the move and jump above his attack, flicking her whip around his leg to trip him. Raphael fell off of the platform but quickly recovered from the embarassment and hoisted himself up where Ms. Valentine was waited. She stomped her heel on Raphael's right hand, almost garaunteed to break it. He cried in pain as he flipped his sword to his left hand. Was he ambidextrous? He continued fighting like it was completely normal, with a new ferocity. Raphael unleashed a flurry that Isabella did her best to dodge. The last thrust that Raphael could muster stabbed into her right bicep. A collective, "Ooh." Rang out through the crowd. Isabella, with anger, grabbed Raphael's right hand with her left, and pulled him to her with her sword in position to stab. Caught off guard, the Valentine blade cut cleanly into Raphael's gut. Isabella didn't finish the fight, allowing him to suffer with his collective wounds. Eventually, Raph fell to the ground, facing up. He was nearly losing consciousness when the two combatants had a short conversation. It ended when Ms. Valentine suddenly stabbed him three times, aiming for the heart each thrust. Our noble enemy couldn't live through that. Isabella strutted out of the arena, clutching her right arm with her left hand, which had a golden gauntlet that reached to her shoulder on it. Amazing fight. I noticed the pirate man that was cheering for Raphael to be screaming and cursing in pure anger.

"So you see, crowd, that the evil Mr. Sorel lay dead, never to wake up and hurt another soul!" The crowd went wild, chanting the word 'Ivy' again and again. I wondered why, until I realized Isabella Valentine's initials. I.V. Phonetically, it became 'Ivy'. I found myself chanting along with them. As the announcer said, a group of men dressed in black robes carried the dead warrior off of the platform and through a special green door in the arena's side. The match after that, between a young red-haired girl dressed fancy and another young priestess looking girl wasn't quite as interesting. The red-haired girl, who went by the same surname as Raphael wasn't willing to fight, and for Pete's sake, the other one was a clergywoman. It was a battle of who would forfeit first, really. I wondered how both of them made it through to the second round. Eventually, the red haired girl submitted first. Great, the priestess who didn't even look armed was in the final eight.

The announcer sounded, "Moore versus Morrison!" This was my fight. I clambered to the locker room to grab my two swords, and donned my battle clothes. I decided to forgo putting on the pauldrons in favor of flexibility and speed. I didn't know what Morrison would have in store for me, but I was determined to win. I heard Ivy yelling at the medics that she didn't need help; Apparently she was being treated but didn't like it. I heard my name being called by the announcer again, so I ran out to the open arena. "Winston Moore defeated his opponent without breaking a sweat or bearing a scratch last round, he will certainly be a treat to watch! He grew up in the very city we're in right now! So the announcer had gotten the information from my registration form. I hopped up onto the platform, wondering what Morrison would look like.

"Aaaaand here's Hugo Morrison! This hulking man from Eastern Germany wields a hammer bigger than his head, and insists on calling it a mace, because he wield it with one hand! There are reports of him hunting animals with his bare hands! His extreme slowness may prove a weakness though!" I had to chuckle at that last line. Even the announcer was telling me how to fight. Hmmm, as long as this man didn't hit me, I was going to win. Hugo then walked out of the arena in heavy armor. I quickly assessed his plating for weaknesses. Gaps in the neck and back of the knees were present, so I decided to get him in the legs first. I hoped my plan would work. Hugo charged towards me; instinctively I stepped back once. After Morrison was near the platform, he slammed his 'mace' down, shattering part of the woodwork. He was trying to scare me. Although I was freaked out of my mind, I stood resolute, not showing it. "I will crush you, petty Englishman. You won't have time to see it coming." Hugo stated through his mouthguard. His voice was unsurprisingly deep and monster-like. I half-smiled, deciding not to taunt. That would anger this hulk more than I wanted. The referee went through his usual dithers, insulting both of us in turn. Morrison said, "How about you become a combatant and face me, geezer!" Shoot, he was getting more angry. I hoped it wouldn't affect the outcome of this fight. The gong's sound echoed through the stadium, letting us know that it was time to fight for our lives.

We circled around the wooden slab of a fighting platform, sizing eachother up and I almost tripped on the area where Hugo had slammed. Without warning he gave a battle cry and rushed me, warhammer over his head. I dived under Hugo, which was tough because I had shortsword in both of my hands. I tried to swipe for the back of his knees while I was down, but I barely missed, giving him tiny slices one both legs. It made him much more angry. He attempted to simply fall onto his back to crush me, but that didn't work. I barely got out from under him, my right ankle under him. Quite painful for my ankle. Both of us combatants were struggling to stand back up. I kicked Hugo's face before I got up at the same time as him. The german winced in pain every step he took, and I was practically hopping on a single foot. After some circling, Morrison charged with a horizontal strike that would have shattered my body. I dropped to one knee, the 'mace' flying right over my head and tripped him with a slash to his leg, which didn't cut through the armor. Seeing my chance, I stabbed my left shortsword into the back of one of his knees, and then into the other, where it got stuck in the bone. Hugo was blubbering in pain and fear, but couldn't bring himself to forfeit as I beheaded him with my remaining sword. After he went limp, I yanked my blade from him, allowing the blood on both blades to stay on them as I walked towards the locker room, not showing any emotion whatsoever. The announcer declared, "Well folks, we end this bloody day with that entertaining battle, and hope Winston's ankle will heal better!" Walking into the locker room, I saw Ivy was done with her medical... time, and was lacing up her new, rather more conservative outfit.


	4. In Between The Fighting

_"What an awesome day! Fighting as a true and brutal art form!" The Chinese announcer yelled to the crowd during the day's end ceremony. Zasalamel and Tira had just watched Kilik show Yun Seong the meaning of pain with his rod, and were preparing to leave after the ceremony. "What an exciting day! All that carnage! Kilik, Seong Mi-Na, and Xianghua will make tomorrow quite entertaining!" Tira exclaimed excitedly. Zasalamel smiled slightly, acknowledging her comment. "Two of those three notable warriors will likely lay dead after tomorrow is over. Fun indeed. There will be almost no resistance one my plan is set in motion." Tira nodded, still staring dreamily at Kilik. "Isn't he dreamy?" She asked Zasalamel, not expecting an answer. "I can't answer that honestly, being male. Come on, now." The hulking African man said in reply, gently pushing Tira along towards the exit._

(Back to Winston!)

"Well, it appears you survived your second battle, Mr. Moore." I nodded, thankful that I hadn't walked into the locker room earlier. "Yeah," I nodded, "Odd how combatants share locker rooms like this." She shrugged. "That's not the only thing we'll share. I looked at the chats, Winnie. There are four rooms booked at a prominent Inn here in London. Don't get your hopes up; there are two beds." She pretended to examine her wound while I shyly changed behind a row of lockers. I settled into a relaxed green tunice with brown pants with my trusty leather boots, and was surprised that the medical team didn't help me with my ankle. I tied my hair behind my and asked if she was ready. She nodded and she walked and I limped out to the arena for the closing ceremony of the day. We stood next to eachother while the announcer blathered about our skill and entertainment values. It seemed all that we were was entertainment at this tournament. I looked at all of the fighters. Five male, three female. I didn't recognise any of them except for Ivy. Amazingly, they all found with one longsword. Apparently this was a winning style. After his sleep inducing speech, the announcer man dismissed us, giving us directions to the hotel. Ivy and I traveled there together, encountering no trouble. We approached room number four and entered, using the key that the announcer man had given Ivy. A neat room, it had an icebox with food already in it, and also a table that had a meal ready for us on it. There were two beds seperated by a screen, and a washroom with a working faucet. I plopped down on the far bed, dropping my bag and testing the bed for comfort. "Pretty good beds!" I commented with a little to much enthusiasm as Ivy checked out the washroom.

Dinner was mostly silent, but I broke that near the end. Between forkfulls of chicken, I asked how her wound was doing. She shrugged. "I'll have to change my style. I'll sharpen my heels and kick with them more often, and deliver final blows with Valentine." I was confused for a moment until she explained that Valentine was the whip/sword. "How about your ankle? I saw you limping out of your second fight." It was my turn to shrug. "Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. Do you think you'll survive tomorrow?" I knew that it was an uneasy question. Face hardened a bit. "Yes. I'm sure of it. You will too. Twenty four hours from now, we'll be eating across from eachother, tense that one of us would likely die by our hands." After i've bonded this much with her, I doubted that I could kill her easily. "One of us will forfeit after the other puts a sword to their neck, deal?" She mulled it over with a large bite of beef in her mouth. "Deal. Sword to the neck, forfeit the match." We shook hands over it and then started on dessert. Which was delicious, by the way.

When it was time to sleep, Ivy retreated to the washroom and emerged in a long-sleeved crimson nightgown that covered everything except for her legs below the knees and her face, of course. We went to our respective beds and lay down to rest. I was unsure of what would happen in the day to follow. With my ankle, my flexible moves would be harder to pull off. I wondered if I could adjust my fighting enough to compensate it, or if the night's sleep would help it at all. I wondered why I wasn't nervous in Ivy's presence. A beautiful woman who's friendly towards me. I guessed that after I'd stared death in the face twice in a row, you get different priorities. Then I remembered. Ivy's right arm was practically disabled. I could fight with either hand, but I doubted she could. "Ivy?" I called. She answered groggily, "What is it, Winnie?" I hesitated before saying, "Good night. And good luck." With her beautiful accent, she replied, "Thank you. I'll remember the promise." With that, we rolled into our regular sleeping positions. I slept that night, dreaming about fighting against every single one of the final eight warriors in the London tournament. In my dream the final battle was in a faraway land called the New World, where three others and I battled for victory and survival. I couldn't remember anything else.

I was woken up bye two other combatants in the neighboring room in an argument. Ivy groaned and slipped out of bed. She walked over to the other room and screamed, "Save it for the tournament!" She then walked back into our room and whapped me with a pillow to wake me up. We took turns to change into our battle clothes and then breakfast was silent as I struggled to look at anything other than her body. After that, we walked to the arena, Ivy stopping another squabble between two citizens along the way. She certainly had a knack for screaming. Once at the arena, we all kitted up with our final armor and weapons and waited in our special bench row for our fights. It was shaping up to be another gruesome day of pointless combat, and I loved every minute of it.


	5. The Third Round

_Zasalamel and Tira, dressed in clothing that was regular for them, had arrived to day two of the Beijing tournament early to see the conditions of the fighters. "Xianghua's pretty banged up. She'll be fighting Seong Mi-Na in the first match of today." Zasalamel stated in monotone, trying to start a conversation. Tira and he, although they didn't show it on their faces, were looking forward to seeing one of those two heroines dead. "Yeah, then whoever wins will face Kilik next round." Tira replied, knowing that Kilik would surely win his third round match today. Zasalamel nodded, "Finally, the real heroes are going down. Cervantes better not screw up this plan. I know how much he hates Ivy and I don't want him stopping the tournament's progress." Tira shrugged, "As long as I get to kill somebody, I'm happy."_

The matches were longer today. I saw the priestess girl, surprisingly, bring her male opponent down to screaming death. She had more tricks up her sleeve than I had first expected. I was sitting next to Ivy, when her last name was called to fight. I bade her good luck and leaned in to try and see who the unlucky man who would die looked like. A gentle looking fighter with a silver longsword stepped into the arena. He was from an unnamed part of the British Isles. Too bad he would die today. Ivy then strutted up to the platform from the locker room, and it was clear to see that her opponent was distracted by her clothing choices. Obviously a sound advantage to have over any foe. Her left handed opponent attempted to get a handshake, so Ivy grabbed his hand with her left hand and crushed it. A lesson for our gentle friend:Don't shake hands with one who has pointy metal on theirs. After he was finished getting over the pain, the gong sounded. Ivy flicked Valentine into whip form and slashed at him. Then slashed again, the tip of the blade hitting his neck. Most of the crowd looked away at that point, the carnage too much to bear. Another fighter destroyed. The announcer applauded Ivy's quick takedown and then called me. "MOORE VERSUS KRONE."

I slipped through the locker room, getting on my combat boots (No joke intended.) and grabbing my now bloody swords. I stepped out into the arena, scanning the faces in the crowd. I didn't notice the old pirate man. Based off of my almost nonexistent shadow I could tell it was around noon. My opponent, Hildegard Von Krone, was already on the platform. She was wearing some sort of dress fit for a princess, with long sleeves and a rift showing off her left leg. She was wearing boots that were up to her mid-thighs and looked ready to kill somebody with just a stare. "Winston Moore is one of the most entertaining combatants we've seen in a long time, folks. He fights with two small and cheap short swords with a blade that couldn't be more than 16 inches long. Despite those shortcomings, he trounced both of his opponents in the fights yesterday!" The crowd cheered me on as the announcer told them my weapons' stats. "Winston's opponent is Hildegard Von Krone! Hilde to her friends, she fights in this tournament with a spear! Her previous two opponents weren't able to get close to her as she stabbed them from five feet away; Can Mr. Moore fare better?" Hildegard half smiled. "In between the gong's sound and your inevitable death, I will make sure you call to your mum for help!" ... She was taunting me! I shrugged and countered, "At least my mother isn't ashamed that I was born!" The announcer yelled, "My oh my, they're making fun of each other! This will be a heated match! Hit the gong!" The person who was responsible for hitting the gong did so.

With her lance that was painted red on the handle, Hilde decided to test my skill of dodging. She lunged her spear directly at me, which I guessed was eight feet in length. I sidestepped and threw my left sword onto the ground and then grabbed and yanked her spear so she flew towards me. Once I was almost upon her, she dropped the lance and unsheathed her own short sword. After exchanging blows that were easily blocked, we crossed swords. "Congratulations, Mr. Moore. You're the first person to make me draw my sword." I didn't pay much attention to her comment, instead seeing who's short sword was better. Her's, by a long shot. With her better made sword, she overpowered me, but I dived backwards onto my back just in time. She then advanced with several swipes as I crawled backwards using my feet. I was heading towards the area that Hugo had destroyed on the raised platform. With one final blow in her combo, Hilde knocked my right sword- My only defenses- Away from me. In a last ditch attempt to survive, I grabbed a splintered piece of wood from the destroyed area and stabbed for he unprotected thigh. I'm not sure how much that injured her, but it made her step back and lay off for a moment. Taking this opportunity, I rolled to my side and grabbed one of my swords. Then I deflected one of Hilde's slashes and proceeded to grab her lance and snap it in half over my knee. Discarded the pieces and watching her suddenly scared face, I walked over and snatched my right sword from the ground. Now with an advantage, I charged her, locking blades with one hand and chopping her right hand off with the other. "Surrender, Hildegard. I don't wish to kill you." She nodded. "I forfeit the match!" Another victory for me! I scanned the crowd to find Ivy cheering for me and waving. Savoring my moment of fame, I plopped off of the platform and slowly walked over to the red door leading to the locker room. Telling the medical team that I had no injuries, I stowed my blades and walked to the stands where the announcer dismissed us for two hours.


	6. Lunch Break

_"Now that was emotional!" Tira exclaimed after seeing Xianghua finally finish Seong Mi-Na off after an hour's fighting. "Truly a spectacle to watch. It set the whole tournament's schedule back. Fights are supposed to last a few minutes. That's what happens when two of the hardest souls clash. Xianghua will certainly fall to Kilik. I triggered the evil seed in his body before this tournament. He won't think twice about ending a life." Zasalamel added. "Ooh! Sadistic! I can't wait until Xianghua and Kilik duke it out!" Zasalamel thought to himself. Tira must be infatuated with Kilik in her own little way. Kilik would be Xianghua's greatest foe yet. She would surely fall. Now that the band of Kilik, Maxi, and Xianghua was dispersed, he would have much less threats for his master plan. He would love the moment that Kilik would fall by his scythe._

I ate lunch out of a pail I had packed, and then put the pail into my locker. Looking forward to exploring the downtown parts of my home city, I jogged out of the stadium's gates to catch up with Ivy. We were still dressed in our combat uniforms, so people that weren't aware of the tournament gawked at us, but some people who knew of the tournament called our names and cheered. So this was what it was like to be a celebrity. We walked together down a cobblestone path in a more seedy neighborhood. I looked around, seeing the old pirate man walking our way. I pointed to him, saying, "Hey, did you see that man in the crowd?" Ivy's eyes wandered towards him, her mouth poised to answer, but at the sight of the cutlass wielding brigand, she gasped. "We have to run. Now." I was about to ask why when she grabbed my hand and ran towards an alley. Before slipping between buildings, I saw the pirate draw his blade and give chase. This was the most excitement i'd had in a long time! Isabella Valentine and I were rushing through a rundown market place, where I got my short swords, avoiding the old pirate man. We hid in the market stall where I had bought my weapons, but the scruff pirate found us. He grabbed the shop owner and threw him out of the stall. Ivy wasted no time in trying to run, but he grabbed Ivy and pinned her to the wall of the alley we had just exited.

I was completely confused, but without our weapons I knew that Ivy was in danger. I yelled to the pirate, "Who are you supposed to be?" He turned to look at me with cold, dead eyes and answered, "I'm Cervantes de Leon, and this is my daughter who needs to die." Huh? He was gesturing to Ivy. I looked up and down both. They had the same hair color. "Okay, Cervantes, what are you doing here?" He smiled and evil smile and replied, "I'm sabotaging Ivy's next match." He suddenly slashed Ivy's right arm, rendering it useless for at least a few months. He let Ivy go and ran off into the crowd. I could barely believe what I had just seen. Ivy began to fall to the ground, but I caught her and hoisted her torso over my shoulder before she blacked out. Realizing that Cervantes had struck a pretty big blood vein, I dashed for the medics at the stadium, generating more awkward stares from townspeople. Although I knew that Cervantes wouldn't show his face at the stadium again, I wanted him brought to justice for assaulting his own daughter! I slowed to a stop at the stadium and called for medics, who rushed out and brought Ivy in to care for her new injury. I sat waiting in the locker room for what seemed like ages, wondering how this would impact her fourth round fight. Finally, she emerged in a medical sling over her right arm. My first, foolish question was, "Can you fight?" She nodded bitterly. "There's no permanent damage, but fighting will be much more tough without using my right arm." I looked down, saying, "I'm sorry that I didn't do anything when I could have, Ivy." She smiled and pulled me into an embrace with her left arm. "You don't know him like I do, Winnie. There's nothing you could have done without weaponry, and you couldn't have done much more except get injured or killed if you challenged him with weapons."

After a few seconds, she pulled away, and we headed towards the stands to wait for our fights. There were only four people left in this tournament, and one of them was the priestess girl who I'd have to fight.

Hello readers. I'm sorry about my inconsistent chapter length, but I'm not getting any feedback from you guys. It'd be great if somebody would review this story. The more, the better.

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	7. The Fourth Round

_Zasalamel gazed out to the remaining four competitors in this competition. Kilik, Xianghua, Setsuka, and another male opponent who wielded a big axe. Tira and Zasalamel were surprised that Setsuka had lasted as long as she did, with her weapon. She was about to face off against the male that wasn't Kilik, and she had no advantage. Her life flashed before her eyes before the axe hit her, ending her confusing life. The crowd roared at the axe wielding man in disgust at what he had done. Zasalamel believe that he would meet his end from Kilik, and that would be that. As soon as the Xianghua and Kilik were called, Tira slipped into a trance, her eyes locked on the Chinese warrior, about to slay what remained of his memories of Xianglian, Xianghua's sister that he had killed while under the evil seed earlier in his life. Zasalamel couldn't help but smile. Entire lives could be transformed at his will. The gong sounded, and both fighters prepared to face the worst thing that would happen in their lives._

I was prepared to die. I mean, really. No joke. I had never known a family, since I was abandoned. I had lived off the streets ever since I was around ten years old. I had known hunger. I had known fear. I had known loss. I had gotten a job at thirteen making bread to feed people. The pay was unfair, only enough to feed me, but I wasn't complaining. The man that hired me was always mean, although I never paid much attention to him. Eventually, I got a better job that actually involved earning profit. I heard of the fight tournament from a fellow worker, and when I came of age to participate, and the location was set to be London, where I lived, I worked even harder to save up money for two weapons and food for my training. Here I was, having nothing to lose. A comfortable bed was a new thing. Perhaps the fact that I'd been staring death in the face since I was a child was what made me fight so well. It was no different than being on the streets, except death came sooner, it came more _mercifully._So, standing in front of my first friend Ivy, asking her if she could fight, I was prepared for whatever happened. When she pulled me into an embrace, all of that changed. Now, I had something to lose. I had something to live for. Hopefully, it would strengthen my resolve, having a clear reason to keep on swinging my blades. Nobody could be sure. Once we had sat- A little bit closer to each other- on our special row for about fifteen minutes, the priestess girl and the other male combatant arrived. The announcer yelled, "Now that all of the combatants are here and ready, let's get this semifinal round underway! Talin versus Winston!"

Sixteen competitors remained in this tournament, if everything was on schedule. Soon only fifteen would remain. Ivy bade me good luck and we hugged once more. I hopped down from my seat and zoomed through the locker room, grabbing my weapons along the way, of course. I just wanted to get this fight over with. This priestess girl _had_taken lives during this ordeal, but I knew she would not take mine. Thinking it through, she would surely give in after I had her helpless. She was fighting in this tournament with a longsword, and it looked pretty deadly. If I could get that out of her hands, she'd surely forfeit. I walked out to my place on the podium. "Through this tournament, Winston Moore has continued to surprise us! He's only sustained one small injury, and completely embarrassed the families of anybody he's fought. If his twin short swords were any sharper, he'd be a force that could not be stopped!" I smiled and waved towards the crowd. After my moment of fame, Talim entered the arena. "Talim is a priestess of the wind, or whatever! She clearly won't be much of an obstacle for our friend Winston!" I had begun to resent that the announcer favored me. It seemed so immodest. Talim and I readied our weapons, and the gong clanged.

I knew this would be a short fight. Talim stood still, too afraid of me and the crowd that was cheering my name to make a move. She didn't want to disappoint the crowd. I stepped forward, and she crouched, making an attempt to look deadly. Half smiling, I took another step forward, testing this girl's will. For some odd reason, she wasn't willing to attack. I decided to talk. "Look, you don't want to kill me, and I don't want to kill you, so this is going to end in a forfeit. I don't want to leave any permanent wounds on you either, so how about you just give in?" She trembled a bit, but eventually shook her head. I shrugged and then lunged, putting a horrendously devastating move aimed for her torso. She barely had the strength to block it. Now our swords were locked, both of mine in the same position. Holding her sword back with my right short sword, I slid my left hand forward until the sword was directly in front of her neck. "Give up, now!" I commanded. She stuttered while she said, "I forfeit." The referee notified to the announcer that Talim had forfeit her match. "It seems our hero Winston REFUSES to kill a woman in combat! What a great man! Well, Winston, go on into the locker room and savor your victory! I did so, settling on the combatants' red bench. Ivy was soon called into battle against her opponent that resembled a weakling of a viking. I didn't have time to say anything as she ran to the locker room.

"Well folks, you're in for a treat. Both competitors have injured their right arm in one way or another, so this will be some very awkward combat! The lovely Ms. Valentine was stabbed in her right bicep by Raphael who she quickly killed afterwards, and Mattias had his arm brutally sliced off! Neither fighter can use that arm because of their injury. Expect many kicks and awkward slashes in this fight!" Isabella Valentine and Mattias were ready to fight. "Hit the gong!" The announcer commanded as Mattias charged with blows that were definitely awkward. Ivy managed to deflect them all and landed a kick aimed for his groin. A unanimous gasp was heard throughout the crowd. If you've ever seen Ivy's combat suit, you may notice a metal plate covering her ankle. That's the section of her leg that connected with Mattias's crotch. Even I felt sorry for the man as he struggled for breath on the ground. As comical as everything was, Ivy still bore her scowl as she lopped off the pained man's head. She then walked out of the arena as the announcer stammered about how much of a blow that was. An entertaining semi-final round, to be sure.


	8. The fight for London

**Sorry folks, no Zasalamel segment this time.**

* * *

The night went pretty much like the previous one, but with more hugs. Ivy and I were both anxious about having to fight eachother. Before we went to sleep, we reminded eachother of the promise not to kill each other in the fight that would occur the next day. This night, I had another dream. It was a dream that went like the one I had the previous night, except this time it was a bit more clear. Two women, Japanese and Greek, fought along-side me and a Chinese looking man. We were fighting the grim reaper, except he was dressed in white. Yes, I know it was an odd dream, but I was one to have odd dreams. The morning was awfully silent as my first friend and I ate breakfast and then geared up.

At the arena, the announcer man made a nice speech about how far us two had come. He repeated all of the information that he had given about us while introducing us to our fights. He then called our names to fight. For the first time in this tournament, I was unsure of what the battle would be like. My ankle was completely healed, but her right arm was dead. Perhaps it would be short and I would win. Perhaps I would lose after a long struggle. Only time would tell, I thought as I entered the arena. The gong sounded before we even got to the platform! We rushed up and clashed swords. I could easily overpower her, but she kicked me before I got the chance. This fight would turn out to be longer than I expected. After ten straight minutes of blocked attacks, I landed a blow that pierced flesh. A hard blow to her upper thigh. She cried out in pain, dropping to the floor. I pointed my swords at her neck. "I forfeit!" She yelled.

"Our new champion spares a woman's life once more! What a fight! After his three days of dishing out pain, he is finally rewarded! Let all of Europe cheer the name of Winston Moore!" I had won. I new this wasn't over, since I still had to fight the three other Best Warriors on Earth, but it felt pretty good to be the center of attention. Even Ivy congratulated me, kissing me on the cheek as she stepped towards the medics to treat her leg. After I regained my senses, I walked out of the arena, wondering where the final fight would be.

* * *

**Sorry for the short crap. I was distracted.**


	9. Travels

_The Beijing Tournament of Souls was over with. Kilik emerged champion, of course. Quickly, the champion was herded into a wagon with Zasalamel and Tira. Zasalamel revealed to him the location of the final battle, and that he would find out who his opponents were once they arrived. Kilik nodded, and decided to sleep for most of the trip. On the second day, bandits attacked the caravan of wagons containing the fighter, announcer, referee, fans, and all of their valuables. Since it was in the middle of the night, most of these people were asleep. Kilik dived out of his wagon, and incapacited all bandits before Zasalamel even knew that they were attacked. Kilik hopped back in, and quickly explained what had happened. "Well done, Chinese warrior. Your final battle in this tournament will be a joy to watch." Zasalamel praised. Hurt, Kilik responded, "Is that all you care about? How fun it will be to watch me slaughter people? Sometimes I wonder why I even signed up for this. I just killed both of my best friends!" Zasalamel knew exactly why Kilik signed up. The Evil Seed in him was working its magic. After some days, they finally arrived at the site of the final battle._

I had won! I didn't have time to say anything about it, though, because I was quickly rushed by tournament personnel and forced to board a wagon, the first in a caravan. I was not alone in this wagon. While we began to depart, I noticed another person in there as I turned my head from the view in the back. It was Cervantes! Instinctively I grabbed for my swords, but they were gone! Then I remembered handing them to one of the medics for "Safekeeping." It didn't look like I was being kept very safe. Cervantes acted like he had never seen me in his life. "Greetings, London champion," He began in a thick, pirate accent, "Here's your lunch." He finished, tossing me a pail filled with some sort of slop. In between spoonfuls I asked, "Where's the final battle taking place?"

"Egypt. Well, near Egypt. It's fifty miles west of Egypt, right in the desert. I suspect the action'll be just as hot as the temperature." He answered, laughing at his own joke. That meant I'd have to travel with this evil man for weeks! First by wagon, then by boat, then again by wagon. This would not be an enjoyable experience. Finishing my slop, I brought my conversation with the Dread Pirate to an end, and began to relax as we reached the outskirts of London. I had never been out of that city, and I certainly wondered what the outside world was like.

Over the course of the trip, I talked to Cervantes as little as possible. A tangible aura of evil was coming from him, and it disturbed my sleep, turning even the best of my dreams into nightmares. I never had any room to work my body out, so I expected to be much weaker at the time of the final battle than I was at the Tournament. I slept often during the travel, and often I wondered about Ivy. She was probably healing well, but I wasn't sure where she lived, or what she was doing at the moment. Come to think of it, I hardly knew anything about her! Perhaps that was a good thing. After three boring weeks, we had finally arrived in Egypt, where we would stay for a few days. Once that was concluded, we would travel by camel into the basic arena so that people could watch me fight for my life.


	10. The Final Battle

_And now, the stories of Kilik and Winston merge._

It was the day of the fight. The sun was simply beating down on me as I rode towards the arena where the four champions would fight to the death. This camel was certainly a smelly animal. I was near-completely drained of my will to carry through with this tournament until I caught sight of the arena. Thousands of fans, waiting for the final battle. This had surely raised thousands of gold for whoever set this tournament.

We each took our respective corners in this 30 square foot slab of clay that was ashamed to call itself an arena. The announcer introduced all four of us. As if we weren't already known worldwide.

"First up, we have Taki, the winner of the Tokyo tournament! Taki is well versed in Ninja arts and will be tough to defend when she opens up with fierce and fast blows. She fights with two shortswords and an odd fighting stance. Of course, the last person to question her fighting stance is now laying two feet in the ground." Taki. Japanese looking, very powerful indeed. She'd be a tough challenge.

"Next there's Kilik!" The crowd went nuts! "He won the Beijing tournament by a landslide, completely dominating all of his opponents. He doesn't even have a scratch on him! He uses a staff with metal on each end. Although this doesn't look deadly, Kilik has killed every single one of his opponents." Kilik, hm. Even more tough than Taki. He had his eyes on me. I knew he'd try to kill me first.

"Third up, we have the lovely Sophitia! She won the tournament in Sparta, letting every single opponent of hers to live. Her shortsword/shield combo is something to watch out for, especially the quick parries that she can deliver. That's right, she fights with a really shortsword, but with her shield she can do some amazing things, including knock you out cold!" Sophitia, hm. The weakest in will and in muscle. She'd die first.

"And last but not least, the fierce Winston! He barely won the tournament in London, which had some of the weakest opponents. Although he could kill you or me, it doesn't look like he'll survive today. Despite this, his fighting style is wondrous! With his two cheap shortswords and amazing flexibility, he's messed his opponents up. Interesting fact:He has never killed a lady so far in the tournament, simply let them surrender with his blade to their throat."

This was it. The final countdown. Some poor soul had lugged a gong all the way out here in the middle of the Sahara. Another poor soul had to stand there and hit it, doing nothing else for the remainder of the fight. The gong sounded for the last time, and it was time to focus on things that were slightly less musical.

Kilik ran straight for me. He was truly a master at whatever art he practiced. If I had only one sword to block his attacks then I would have been done for. I held out, knowing that he would lose energy and then I could begin an offense against him.

Taki was doing the same thing against Sophitia. Her shield wasn't doing much good for her. The announcer was... you guessed it, announcing our fight and commentating on it as if he were a master at all fighting styles. I tuned him out, focusing on Kilik. He would grunt, yell, or unleach a battle cry before each flail he'd make at my head, so I readied my defenses whenever he did one of those. I thought I'd cut his staff in two, but the wood was too strong.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sophitia tiring out. Her defensive motions were getting more sloppy, and it wouldn't be long before Taki had an opening. I was much more conservative with my blocks, which I'm sure the announcer made a note of. By two minutes in Taki was simply playing with Sophitia, who was leaving large openings and wasn't getting any less tired. Taki finally realized the stupidity in toying with Sophitia's life, and ended it with a swift blow to the head. Taki was gloating over her victory. Shoot, a three person battle. It could go any way now.

Taki was trying to dislodge her sword and was quite distracted. Seeing an opportunity, I waited for Kilik to slow down a fraction, then I ducked under his next swipe and sprinted to Taki. I stabbed her in the side and then turned to face Kilik. He had surely caught up to me by now and he would be preparing for another flurry.

This is when all hell broke loose.


	11. The REAL Final Battle

_Finally Zasalamel's plan was in its final stage. He had brought 128 of the strongest fighters in the world, and killed all but the three most powerful, over the course of a month. He wondered why he hadn't though of this sooner. He would take Soul Edge easily now that all resistance literally killed itself. He, Cervantes, and Tira ran into the arena. The fighters stopped fighting and gazed at these three evil souls with utter confusion. A perfect moment, thought Zasalamel as he hit Taki in the face with the blunt end of his scythe. Tira quickly engaged Kilik with bloodlust in her eyes, leaving him little time to dodge her fierce blow that would have sliced him in two. Cervantes casually flailed at Winston. That would be the most entertaining fight, two men with four swords between them._

I had been fighting Kilik, actually getting a few good strikes in that he had to dodge, when Tira broke into our fight rather harshly. I was amazed that Kilik could register her vertical strike and sidestep it in the time it takes one's heart to beat. Cervantes had different plans for me than allowing me to ponder vital organs. Actually, he wanted to feed me my heart instead of making a reference to how fast it is beating. The Dread Pirate had started to fight me, and was quite proficient and loosing unbelievably powerful blows towards my torso. After ducking under the fourteenth horizontal flail, I connected with his leg. Not that it slowed him down at all. By shifting his balance and varying his attacks, he thrust me in even deeper water.

Taki was having a hard time keeping her innards in her while fighting Zasalamel. The man's scythe enabled him to stab your back while facing you, and it was unique. A very hard weapon to defend against for sure. She knew it was going to end, so she made a suicide attack for Zasalamel's heart that missed by six inches, instead stabbing him in the shoulder and rendering his left arm useless. Of course, Zasalamel had the upper hand now. He kneed her right where her stab wound was, then finished her off with a one-handed swing from his scythe that took quite some effort. It was now three versus two.

Kilik and I were now unlikely allies. We came in here prepared to kill each other, but now we had to work together to save our lives, however unlikely that prospect was. I was being double teamed now, leaving Kilik alone with Tira. The audience was roaring in bloodlust, unaware that these turn of events weren't planned by us fighters. I needed some motivation, and fast. Even with one arm Zasalamel could really upset my balance and leave my vulnerable to Cervantes. My mind instantly flicked to Ivy. If there was one reason to live, it was to see her face again, and feel her in my embrace once more. Now I had a bit more adrenalin in my blood stream. The tables were about to turn in our favor.

Kilik had been fighting off Tira effortlessly, and knew exactly how to end this fight. Using his graceful speed, he thrust his staff through Tira's hula hoop of a blade, and with a flick of his wrists, it was out of her hands and soaring through the air. It landed with a clang on the ground. Tira ran to grab it, but Kilik simply straightened his arms to smack her in the back. A painful offense that brought Tira to her knees in agony. A merciless stab to her neck evened the teams for us.

I needed help, and fast. Cervantes had somehow kept up with me for all of this time, while I was getting slower and slower. I ducked under a scythe swing. I could hear the air being displaced as it swished right over my head. If I had any hairs sticking up, they're be gone now. Another unsuccessful stab for Cervantes. And I was done. It took the last ounces of strength from me to stop Cervantes's next predictably swipe. Kilik arrived just in time. He ran up, stabbed his staff into the small of the pirate's back as hard as he could, and used his inertia to carry him up high enough to kick him in the back of the head.

Cervantes was knocked unconscious. Surely somebody would try to jump high using a pole for sport after seeing Kilik perform it so effortlessly. I dived out of the way of the falling Dread Pirate Lord , and then focused on Zasalamel. Seeing victory so close renewed my strength. Kilik wasn't wasting a second. He charged Zasalamel, and they entered an extreme scuffle with their similar weapons. Kilik's staff was longer, but Zasalamel had a one-sided blade on the edge of his. I spent the next five seconds stabbing Cervantes as many times as I could with my blades, the joined the fracas. Zasalamel still had much more energy and raw strength than Kilik, so he needed help. The man was too distracted with his opponent to notice that I was walking up behind him.

A stab through the back of his head ended him instantly. He fell to the ground, and I made no effort to retrieve my blade from his head. It didn't look out of place there. Now that he was dead, his spell over Kilik vanished, and the chinese warrior suddenly understood the actuality of what he had done. He dropped to his knees, tears in his eyes. Kilik made no effort to hide his anguish. I was relieved. I would live another day, and perhaps I could split the tournament winnings with my unlikely ally. I could already tell that he and I would become great friends. Then I remembered. Ivy! I would see her again.

Although I was still homeless, I had found my place in this world. I was a warrior, with Kilik, and Ivy would forever belong by my side. I did not know what adventures would await me, but I knew that by the time I had left this big old world, my life would be complete. I hoisted Kilik up.

"Come on. Let's start our lives anew and make sure nobody obtains Soul Edge."

END


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